


Hot Chocolate

by GingerBurst



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hot Chocolate, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2019, Nonverbal Link (Legend of Zelda), reader insert if you want to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24365305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerBurst/pseuds/GingerBurst
Summary: Link has never had hot chocolate. It's time we fixed that.
Relationships: Link (Legend of Zelda)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to read this as a Reader Insert, if you want. Just don't take my work as your own. This character is dear to me.  
> Ivana: a baker in Castle Town, Ian is her older brother

_Prompt: A making B some hot chocolate._

To say Link was confused was probably an understatement, but he couldn’t help but be amused as Ivana dug in her rucksack humming and hawing as she failed to locate whatever it was she was trying to find. She had just suddenly exclaimed “Wait! I nearly forgot!” after making a comment about the weather all but roaring outside. The snow was pelting the front door with soft, pattering thuds as an increasing number of small tins and clothes were vacated from her bag, rejected, and set aside to dig in again. There were five tins and a small pile of clothes at her feet when she finally stopped on a small jar, examined it, and once again exclaimed. “There you are!”  
“Link, do you have a free pot? I need to boil some water.”  
Cocking his head a moment, he nodded and then stood to get one of the smaller pots down from the hearth shelf. Ivana passed the table to set the jar down, and then retrieve the cloth to set the pot on later. Link moved the dinner pot to the floor on a clay tray, and set the fresh pot onto the hook. Grabbing a tin mug from the shelf, he dunked it calmly into the barrel of water nearby and poured two cup fulls in before Ivana stopped him.  
“That should be good. Enough for each of us.”  
Again, Link nodded and put the mug back on the shelf to dry. Debating about going back to sit down, he leaned against the hearth to watch his baker work. She tossed a fresh log onto the fire, it would be going all night anyway, before retrieving a ladle from a hook and the jar from the table and shook it.

Now he was drawn to the tiny little thing, a nondescript glass bottle with no tag or label. Around her hand holding the jar, he could see the brown spice pooled in the bottom and sticking to the sides. Tucked into the power, he thought he might see chunks but couldn’t tell if it was clumped powder or a broken chunk of some completely different spice. Ordon didn’t import spices often, and most local dishes used the grasses or seeds from Song Plants. Therefore, Link had no idea what about this dirt looking spice was or why Ivana appeared so excited for it. She was obviously trying not to rush the water, not like she had any control over it anyway until that log took. Taking a breath, he reached out to touch her arm and distract her. The water would boil when it wanted to eventually. 

She straightened to meet his questioning look, and he raised a brow after glancing at the jar. Ivana giggled a moment before, “Sorry. I just got excited.” He nodded, and settled more comfortably against the hearth.  
“Here, smell it.” Unscrewing the cap, she lifted the jar to him to let him come to it. Hovering his nose over it, he sniffed, and was nearly assaulted by the _sweetness_ of the spice. His aimed a bewildered look at her. What kind of dirt spice smells _sweet?_  
“It’s chocolate!” she laughed, and his bewilderment snapped into surprise as he straightened. “I grabbed some from our stash at home. We splurged a few years ago and bought everything we could, and Ian and I try to top it off whenever we can. This stuff is old, so it’s probably not as good as anything fresh.”

Link opened his arms to gesture his hands at her, looking at the spice like it was a gem he would absolutely never trust himself to touch. Even if Zelda herself tasked him with it, he thought maybe a _real_ gemstone worth that much would be safer to touch.  
“I know, it’s expensive, but my father had a recipe that used the sticks and then turned that to use the powder. It spreads into the dough better. They used to get small deals with a few of the nomad merchants, that they were kind enough to keep for me and Ian.” She looked up when he touched her forearm, flicking her eyes over that concerned frown. She beamed at him. “Don’t even argue! I’m going to make this for you, and you’re going to love it. I have enough for small drinks, and a small batch of dough. If we’re snowed in tomorrow I’ll start making some while you’re out.”

The pot beside her burbled, quietly drawing both of them back to the rolling boil. Ivana swirled the jar to loosen up the powder, and gently held it over the mouth of the pot. Link reached over to hold her hair back from her shoulders, and she held back her skirts. Her pointer finger _tap tapped_ the mouth of the jar until she was satisfied with the amount of chocolate. She stirred it with the ladle, let that in the pot, and recapped the jar to place on the shelf. Slowly, the water took on that dirt, muddy color. Link did notice the color was more rich than just dirt, and put the comparison out of his mind as the sweetness faintly filled his small home. Neither spoke up again until the pot, just a few minutes later, needed to be removed from the heat. Link traded places with Ivana, who stepped back to let him grab the handle and hurriedly carry it over to the cloth on the table. 

“Grab two mugs, and I’ll pour it out,” Ivana asked, stirring and cooling down the now brewed chocolate. “And, if you have any milk in storage? That’ll make this even better.”  
Link set the mugs on the table, also grabbing two of his only spoons and setting those down too. Then he turned for the staircase, quickly padding down into the store-room in his bare feet. He grabbed a bottle from a shelf, hopped back up the stairs, and shut the store room door behind him. Like a kid awaiting inspection and praise, he took his spot beside his girlfriend and handed her the slightly chilled goats milk. Like what he thought a doctor or witch might make a potion, Ivana poured each piece of drink into each mug and stirred like she had done it hundreds of times before. Maybe she would have, if chocolate wasn’t such a foreign, rare, and expensive treat. He was reminded again that bakers had more status in the city, not unlike a rancher in a farm town, but with better access to market ingredients.  
“Done,” she pipped up, pushing a mug over to his chair. “Careful, that’s going to be hot for another minute.” 

Taking his chair at the side of the table and following her lead, he spun the metal spoon around in the mug. For a moment, he watched the few different browns follow the spoon until they were fully mixed. The spoon had warmed under his rough fingers and Ivana had already switched hands to hande hers. Figuring that was good enough, he let go of the utensil and grabbed onto the much hotter mug. Ivana watched him carefully, making sure he didn’t needlessly burn himself he knew, as he took a rather timid sip. It was cool enough not to burn immediately, and swirled the liquid on his tongue. 

Ivana nearly broke into giggles at the look he gave her - wide eyed, clutching his mug, and his tongue darted out to catch anything on his lips. 

“I take it you like it?” He nodded, bringing the mug back to his mouth to sip again. Slowly this time, in order to savor the flavor. It was warm in a way that alcohol wasn't and in the way fresh goat’s milk was, but not as thick or heavy sticking to his mouth. Maybe if he opened a full bottle of goat’s milk for next time - next time?- and had Ivana cook with that instead. Water was an easy resource, but he had plenty supply of milk here at the ranch. She’d already created wonderful breads using the milk instead of water, he wondered what flavors the goat milk might add if there was more of it. Seeing as his drink was still hot, he added a splash more of milk to top his mug off and ignored the amused huff off to his side. Link repeated the process with the spoon until the colors were one once more, then sipped. _Much better._

“Don’t worry if you drink all of it or even if you don’t! I can use what’s left in a dough. And I have just enough for a batch of those sweet breads my father made. I’ll see if there’s enough to make some tomorrow.” Ivana looked up to get his response, mug poised at his lips and obscuring half his face but not the blue eyes sparkling at her. She huffed, smiling. “Okay but you have to help me find the ingredients. You changed things on me, so now I don’t know where the flour is!”

Link closed his eyes, taking another hearty sip from his mug and taking a breath. The fire crackled behind them, casting their shadows to the opposite wall lit up in sunset hues. Content with that answer, Ivana turned back to her own and smiled - and added a _little_ more milk this time too.

**Author's Note:**

> Gods I don't even know if I want to post any OC work, but other people do it so fuck it why not. I've had her since childhood, and worked _hard_ to make her a real person (she was originally just a 10yr olds fantasy Link double). There are, technically, as many incarnations of this OC as there is Link - only 4 of which receive any authorial attention and legwork. I do a lot of my character studies with this one, and I use her to help work on my subtle/nuance skill stat.
> 
> And, really, she's just super important to me and probably the only OC I've kept around - aside any truly original works on the permanent back burner. I never intended for anyone outside of my personal circle to ever see works with her, hence the absolute lack of physical description - this is why I say you can reader insert, if you want to. I know not everyone wants to read any OC ship work.
> 
> Critique welcomed and encouraged!


End file.
